Adventures in Sleepovers
by muisicismylife
Summary: "Awe, baby bat," Dick leans down to ruffle his little brother's hair beneath his hood, "I was using the term loosely. Swears. It's more of a male-bonding-hang-out-at-my-place kind of thing. No need to feel embarrassed."
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** I don't own _any _of these characters or places. DC owns it all.

"So, you up for it, Robin?"

Damian releases a "Tt," before turning around to face the streets of Gotham. "How old do you think I am, Nightwing?"

"Eleven and a half?" He offers, teetering on the ledge of the building with his right foot. If Damian didn't know of his acrobatics skills, he'd be worried the idiot would fall with how strong the winds are tonight. His cape snaps wildly and he once again has to adjust his hood that threatens to fall every few gusts. "But you're never too old to spend time with your big bro."

"You-"

"Robin." Nightwing doesn't even flinch at the new voice, but the owner of the name in question can't help but tense in surprise. He turns to find the tower of a shadow approaching him, his thick boots hardly making any sound at all as he does so. "Keep your focus on patrol," the Batman orders, stopping next to him.

Nightwing grins at his former mentor. "Hey, B. I was actually wanting to talk with you." He sets both feet firmly on the ground and hops down from the ledge, landing right in front of Batman.

"It can't wait?" It was probably meant as a question, but it certainly came off as_, it __**can **__wait._

"Well," he sighs, crossing his arms idly and a smile still gracing his lips, "I was in the neighborhood and just decided to go ahead and ask."

"Is it important?" _It better be important. _

"I was wondering if it would be okay if Robin stayed with me for a few days. For bonding purposes and stuff." He turns his attention to the young boy and grins toothily at him. Robin scoffs at the gesture, returning his gaze down to the streets.

For a moment, Batman is silent. "This could have waited," he says finally with an undertone of a sigh. "But, fine. If he wants to." Both sets of masked eyes turn to the boy, awaiting his answer.

His own interest was still on Gotham until he notes the extensive silence. "What?"

Nightwing huffs a chuckle, but Batman seems less amused. "Are you going to accept Nightwing's proposal?" To put one way.

"Tt, I'm too old for your sleepovers, Gr-."

"_Names, _Robin."

"_Nightwing_."

"Awe, baby bat," Dick leans down to ruffle his little brother's hair beneath his hood, "I was using the term loosely. Swears. It's more of a male-bonding-hang-out-at- my-place kind of thing. No need to feel embarrassed."

"Shut up," he hisses, recoiling from his touch.

"Am I to assume that's a 'no'?" Damian hasn't known his father as long as the other Robins, but he's at least gotten to a point where he can guess Batman's expressions hidden behind the cowl. He can picture the arched eyebrow, wry glance combo as they speak.

"No," he protests- rather quickly.

Nightwing's smile turns to a pathetic pout and he releases a sort of whimper that Damian still cannot believe a grown man can produce. "No?"

The younger boy rolls his eyes. "I _meant_," he sighs, pulling up his hood after a bitter wind knocked it down, "I agree to your offer."

"Awesome," the corner of his lips instantly jump back into a grin. "I'll pick you up tomorrow then." Damian happens to know Dick Grayson very well, and despite the domino, he knows Nightwing just winked at him. "Thanks, Batman, by the way."

"This could have waited," Batman reiterates.

Nightwing shrugs. "Mm, yeah. See you tomorrow!" He steals one last hair ruffle to Damian before somersaulting over the ledge and lining to the opposite building.

"Tt."

"Mmhm."

...

**tbc.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer**: DC owns the characters, not me. Oh, and Nintendo own _Mario Kart_, just so we're clear.

...

When Damian steps into Dick's apartment, it isn't at all what he expected. "This is _it?_" He asks, dropping his overnight bag next to the door.

"Well," Dick sniffs, "don't seem _too _disappointed. I have to pay these bills myself, you know."

"You realize our father is a _millionaire_, Grayson," he states as he takes in the small apartment. In actuality, it's not a bad flat, really. Mostly bare, and messy with littered papers and candy wrappers from its owner, but, in comparison to how Dick _used _to live, Damian sees it as quite the demotion.

"Like I said," Dick chuckles, kicking the door shut behind them, "I have to pay for this myself. Being a cop slash masked vigilante doesn't bring quite the same income as owning your own corporation, you know?"

"Tt." Is all his little brother has to say to_ that_.

"Awe," he smiles fondly, leaning down to give the unsuspecting boy a hug from behind, "I've missed you, Dami."

"Hands _off_, Grayson."

...

Damian picks off the slimy substance on his pizza. "I can't believe you ordered _two _boxes of this."

"I _didn't_," Dick sighs, frowning down at his own slice. "I just don't see how they messed up my order- who even eats anchovies?"

He peels off the receipt from the top of the box. "H_. _Montgomery does, apparently," Damian says, frowning in disgust.

"Wanna eat cereal instead?"

"Yes."

...

"That is bullsh-"

"_Language_, Little D."

"You know it is!"

"It is most certainly _not_." Dick grins proudly as his character on the screen crosses the finish line first. "I just happen to be a boss at this game."

Damian scowls at the TV and adjusts his legs so that he's sitting on them. "A cheater, you mean," he accuses.

Dick frowns. "You can't cheat at _Mario Kart._"

"Todd says you do."

"Jason is a sore loser. He thinks I cheat at everything I win." He runs a hand through Damian's hair playfully. "Don't be a sore loser, Dami. Maybe you'll win the next one." He scans the race track list to look for _Rainbow Road. _"Maybe."

When Dick gets knocked off the multicolored track for a third time by a certain _Bowser_ and finishes second, he can't help but mutter, "Cheater," much to Damian's pleasure.

...

Damian blocks the door stubbornly, ignoring the incessant pounding on the other side of it. "Absolutely not," he growls.

"He won't stay long," Dick assures, not afraid of using force but prolonging it just in case his little brother decides to relent. "I promise. He's just picking up some files for work."

"Drake has an annoying tendency to dally where he is not welcome."

"I can hear you, you know," Tim sighs beyond the door. "Believe me, I won't bother _dallying_ around _you_."

Dick nudges Damian's shoulder gently. "Come on, Dami. Be nice." The boy hesitates, but begrudgingly steps out of the way so Dick can open the door.

Tim walks in, offering a dry glance to the entitled 'demon spawn'. "Brat." He acknowledges. "You guys having a slumber party?"

"_No, _but you are nevertheless bothering us_._"

Dick sighs and pats Tim on the shoulder. "Good to see you," not an ounce of effort is needed to produce a welcome smile for his other little brother. "You need those files?"

"Yeah." He shifts on his feet awkwardly, feeling the holes that Damian's irritated glare is burning into his head. "It can wait, though, if you guys are busy-"

"Damian's just attention-hogging," the oldest assures, producing an affronted, "_Tt_," from the boy. "I'll go get them." As he passes by the counter with uneaten pizzas, he asks over his shoulder, "You want some anchovy pizza?"

Tim's nose scrunches in distaste. "I'll pass."

In Dick's absence, the two boys stand silently, keeping their eyes averted from one another. They can hear Dick rummaging in a different room, which assures them that he's going to be a while. Despite the bad feeling he gets, Tim attempts to make conversation, if only to end the tense silence. "You guys having fun?"

Damian huffs in annoyance. "We _were._"

Tim ignores the implication as he takes a look around the apartment. "His place is nice. Were you guys playing _Mario Kart_?" He asks when he notices the game controllers. When he doesn't receive a verbal answer, he turns back to the boy, who offers a curt nod; his expression was telling. Tim's seen it plenty of times. "You know how he does it?"

His narrowed eyes widen slightly in surprise. "Does what?"

Tim checks the doorway to be sure no one is there. "Cheat."

"Grayson says there is no way to cheat at that video game," he points out, frowning suspiciously.

"Of course he does." Tim shrugs. Before he can say anything more, Dick waltzes back into the room.

He flips through the manila folder absently, double checking it. "Sorry, I guess I had moved it and forgot about it." Dick holds it out to Tim's waiting hands. "You headed home or-"

"Back to the office," Tim assures, slipping the files into his satchel. "Thanks, Dick." As he turns to leave, he meets eyes with Damian and raises his brows inconspicuously. "Catch you two later."

"Bye, Tim," he waves, closing the door after him. He thinks nothing of it when he turns back around to see Damian typing away on his phone. "I might have some cake mix or something," he suggests as he walks into the small kitchen area, "if you're up for it?"

Damian doesn't answer as he's too busy sending his text.

_Tell me_.

And he doesn't have to wait long at all for his response.

...

**tbc.**

[And a quick author's note to my first reviewer- thank you so much for taking the time to review and I'm glad you enjoyed it:) ]


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer**: DC owns the characters.

...

"I didn't bring anything for my sleeping arrangements as I assumed _you'd _have at the very least a guest bedroom," says the boy who's never had to share anything in his entire life.

Grayson chuckles and scratches the back of his neck warily. "Whoops, guess I should have told you. Is my couch that bad?"

Damian narrows his eyes at the furniture in question. "It _smells _for one, and I'm certain there's something living in it with the amount of food residue lying beneath the cushions." He's seen Dick eat first hand, too. If it's finger food of any sort, you can guarantee a mess. Pennyworth doesn't even allow him to eat in the living room at the manor.

"Geez, Little D," he laughs sheepishly, "no need to be so _dramatic_. No big deal, though. We can bunk together. It gets pretty chilly in here at night anyway, so this is probably for the best."

"Tt," but he allows himself to be led into the not-too-shabby-[but-_much_-smaller-than-his-former] bedroom. "I hope you don't snore."

Again, Dick laughs and tosses a pillow at him. "Sucks for you, Dami. I've been told I snore like a _train_."

"Oh, joy."

...

And he does. Dick Grayson snores _loud_. So loud, that Damian is almost certain that he's doing it on purpose, just to annoy him.

Well, Grayson would be most displeased to know- Damian huffs to himself as he settles into the 100% cotton sheets of the bed- that it doesn't bother him at all. He closes his eyes and falls into a sound sleep.

It doesn't bother him a bit.

...

As per the norm, Damian is the first to awake. His internal clock tells him it's about six, but he could just look over Dick's slumbering body to see the digital confirmation.

It's an unfamiliar place to him- even if Dick has a way of making everything feel normal and welcoming- so he just continues to lay there, staring up at the ceiling. It's Saturday, so Grayson will probably be sleeping in, but Damian has never really indulged in lazy mornings.

He's itching to do something.

He decides to wake up Dick.

"Grayson." He says, turning his head in his direction. "Grayson, get up. I want breakfast."

The man stirs and mumbles into the pillow he's drooling on. "Mf, there's cer'el."

"I'm craving eggs," Damian opposes, mostly to irritate him. When Dick starts to still again, Damian nudges him in the ribs with his knee. None too lightly. "Grayson. Wake. Up."

"_Ow_," Dick raises his messy head and pouts at his little brother. "There are nicer ways to wake people up, you know," he huffs, rubbing an eye with his fist.

"Tt." Damian sits up and crosses his legs. "Stop being lazy. I require sustenance." He jumps when he feels a pinch at his arm.

"You're so _bossy_," Dick says, just barely missing Damian's fist as he gets out of bed. "If you want eggs, you're gonna have to help me."

Damian raises a skeptical brow. "Pennyworth doesn't ask for help."

"Yeah, well. I'm not Alfred." He turns back to motion him to follow. "C'mon, _your highness._"

"Tt." He certainly doesn't object to _that _title.

...

"Your fault."

"_You _cracked the egg."

"_You _forced me into helping you. All results following will be on _your _account."

Despite the accusation, Dick laughs as he grabs for a paper towel to clean up the mess. "You really are a brat, you know?" He wipes where the yolk slowly spreads on the counter.

Damian sniffs, "And you're an idiot."

After discarding the paper towels he looks back to the first two ruined batches of eggs and charred bacon still smoking on the skillet. "Mm," he smiles, ruffling Damian's hair and ignoring his growl of protest, "maybe."

...

**tbc. **

[Thank you again for the reviews/favorites/follows! They're greatly appreciated:) ]


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer**: I don't own any of these characters, nor the places; DC does.

...

"Ugh," Damian groans as they exit the café, beverages they purchased in hand.

Dick sips from his triple chocolate _heart attack _before looking down at him. "What?"

"That disgusting spectacle nearly made me lose my appetite."

"What did I do?" Dick exasperates, his drink almost knocking Damian in the head.

"Not _you_," Damian corrects. He takes a pause to sip his own drink, then says, "The barista. Her attempts at courting you were pathetic, at best."

Dick nearly chokes on his drink and he coughs into his fist to clear his throat. "Courting? You mean flirting?"

"If you could even _call _it that."

"She was flirting with me?" He looks back to the café, bemused. "Darn it. She was cute too. Sometimes I just can't pick up on that." He returns his gaze to Damian, "How did you know she was flirting?"

"You'd have to be an idiot _not _to notice." Damian glances in his direction. "Case and point."

Despite the slight, Dick laughs. "Man, maybe I should take you out with me on weekends. You could be my little wingman." He suddenly gasps and Damian doesn't even have to ask to know what he's thinking.

"_Don't you dare say it_."

...

Blüdhaven is pretty much Gotham, only less dirty and just a little bit smaller. Damian, personally, would chose his father's city over this any day, but something about it just seems to fit with Grayson. There's also a considerable amount of skyscrapers. Damian can see why _he _stays around.

There must be some sort of gravitational pull between the ledge of any building and Dick Grayson. The second they land, costumes donned and a yellow cape billowing in the night wind, Nightwing is making for the front ledge. "So anyway," continuing his prattle that Damian didn't care about on the last rooftop, "Speedy has to jump _in _the alligator pit just to save Green's arrow." He laughs as he balances on the very edge, not even watching his feet. "They didn't bite him but he came out with a few leeches."

"A riveting tale," Robin drawls, adjusting his hood.

Nightwing grins at that, either ignoring or not hearing his tone, and shrugs modestly. "I try." He kicks some dust off the roof and watches it float and disappear into the orange-lit street below. "Well, we've been out here for a couple of hours now. We'll give it one more and then call it a night."

The peace is unsettling for a Saturday night, but Damian is almost certain that the crime of the world probably decides to swarm in Gotham, where Saturdays are _never _peaceful.

Dick laughs, when he catches his expression. "It's not usually so quiet here either," he assures as he begins to walk the ledge like a tightrope. "But I guess that's just another pro for Blüdhaven. It _can _be."

Robin huffs, eyeing the traffic below them. He's not usually the one to initiate conversation (he's usually too busy recovering from Dick's onslaught of chatter to ever really crave it), but the words are sitting impatiently on his tongue and Damian has never been sure of self-control being his _greatest _skill. "It suits you."

"Hm?"

"This city," Robin clarifies. "It suits you."

Nightwing looks around considerably. "I've always thought so. Kind of reminds me of Gotham, but, you know, _not_."

He isn't so sure what to say to that, so he tightens his lips into a frown as he continues to watch the populace. Next to him, Nightwing rolls onto the balls of his feet, only an inch or so of concrete to support him. Damian isn't afraid of heights (obviously) but the way Grayson seems to be addicted to having as little of solid ground beneath his feet as possible annoys him. He's asked about it once before- _"Do you have a death wish, Grayson, or are you so delusional that you believe if you fall, you'll grow wings?"_- and, of course, he responds with a totally idiotic answer- _"Maybe I _would _grow wings._" Damian wanted nothing more than to retaliate with, "Angel wings because you would be dead," but he really wasn't interested in boosting Dick's ego when he'd twist his words to make it sound like the compliment it wasn't supposed to be.

Nightwing tilts his head to get a better look at the boy's hood-shielded expression. "Something wrong, baby bat?"

"No."

He pokes his cheek. "I can read you like a book. What's up?"

Robin swats his hand away, turning so that their masked eyes meet. "If you can read me so well why don't you figure it out?"

Nightwing pouts, and it looks ridiculous. If criminals could see the puppy expressions this vigilante could make, they'd never fear him. "You're angry with me," and the whimpered tone only adds to the hurt façade

"Tt. Don't be stupid."

"You _are_," he whines. "What did I do?"

It's futile, but Damian attempts to ignore him, pretending to be more focused on the city than him. Beside him, Dick continues to whimper (and he must really be in pain because what he really wants to do is drag out "_Daaaaammmmiii_" for all it's worth, but no names on the field) and beg in every way except directly for his attention.

It's when his foot slips that Damian breaks the silent treatment and quickly grabs for Dick's hand. He doesn't stop to think that he's _Nightwing _and is completely prepared for unexpected slips, he just reaches and jerks him back a good safe three feet from the ledge. "Oh, thank you, Robin," he smiles. "I would have caught myself but-"

"Can you _not _stand on the ledge of a _skyscraper_?" He snaps, half angry, half embarrassed because _of course he knows Dick can catch himself, he doesn't know why he even bothered._ But he did and so Dick is grinning like the moron he is, subtly rocking back and forth on his heels as he watches Damian.

"No need to be so worried, Robin. Not the first time I slipped. B's seen me fall off tons of buildings; he used to say he'll gray early from all the little heart attacks I gave him."

Damian scoffs, turning away. "I wasn't worried." He claims, fists clenched. He hears Dick hum skeptically behind him but before either can say another word on the matter, sirens begin to wail and they jump into action.

…

"It isn't _that _ba- _ow, _Dami," he grimaces as Damian stiches up his arm. He can do it himself, but the boy insisted. Now Dick sees why- he's not a gentle caretaker and Damian still seems to be angry with him, for whatever reason. "You don't have to be so rough."

They're sitting in his bathroom, which is a little cramped with them both in there, still in semi costume. Dick had taken his mask and boots off a while ago, and Damian always sheds his cape and tunic first, leaving his black undershirt and pants.

He huffs at Dick's complaint. "Don't be so childish, I've hardly begun."

"I'm gonna need some anesthetic," he sighs, rubbing his free hand over his face wearily.

"Tt," Damian slides the needle through carefully, "this will only take a minute." When Dick makes no response, he expects they might have a bout of silence for a bit, or, until he finishes, at least.

Alas, though- "Hey, Damian, are you still angry with me?"

"I'm not angry with you," he assures, quickly tying up the final stitch, earning a last, _ow_, from him.

Dick rests his arm on his leg as Damian puts away the kit. "You were," he says, "I could tell."

The boy rolls his eyes. "What would I even be upset about, Grayson?"

"Oh, _what _a question," he exasperates. "You get upset about lots of things."

"I'm not upset now."

"_See! _You were!" He grabs Damian's arm when he tries to leave.

"Careful, idiot, you might pop the stitches if-"

"Are you still mad that I left?"

He stills beneath Dick's hand and there's a tense pause. Finally, Damian offers a scoff and tries to pry his arm away- gently, so as not to undo the stitches. "Don't be ridiculous, Grayson. That was months ago." When he catches Dick about to point something out, he interjects, "And I _wasn't _upset _then_. Now release me before you ruin my hard work."

"You don't have to lie to me, Dami," he assures, refusing to let go of either his arm or the subject. "You can be honest and you don't have to feel embarrassed."

"Shut up," he huffs, scowling. "There's nothing to lie about, I am not nor was I ever upset that you left me."

Dick blinks at him and Damian is puzzled at the older man's expression. "Is that what you think? That I left _you_?"

Realizing his mistake too late, Damian curses. "That is _not _what I meant," he snaps, wanting desperately to jerk his arm away but wary of the still fresh stitches. "Your leaving was inevitable and it neither surprised nor bothered me. In fact, the newfound silence was rather refreshing."

"It wasn't you, Damian," Dick persists, ignoring the excuses. "I loved working with you and I love you. I just-"

"This conversation is unnecessary and I demand that it ceases immediately," Damian snaps, taking a few futile steps back just to have some space. The bathroom is feeling smaller and smaller with every word, it seems. "I don't have to understand _why _you left. You left and I work with Father now, end of discussion, _now let me go._"

Dick complies this time; the second his grip loosens, Damian is out the bathroom, leaving Dick alone to sort through his thoughts.

…

He finds Damian in his bed, now dressed in his PJ's. His legs are crossed along with his arms as he scowls down at the bed sheets. Poor bed sheets.

"You ready for bed so soon?" He asks, trying to sound chipper in spite of the tension.

"It's one thirty," Damian states dryly.

Dick looks at the clock- _so it is_- then back at him. "I'm sorry." He considers leaving it at that, but feels the need to add, "If what I said…upset you."

He doesn't expect a response and he doesn't get one. Sighing, he walks over to the bed and sits down, leaning back on his elbows. Usually, a million different things to say run through his head, but not now. He can only simmer in their uneasy silence, feeling guilty for a number of reasons.

"Don't," Damian says, nearly making Dick fall off the bed in surprise, "be sorry." When he tilts his head too look at Damian's face, his brows are furrowed deeply and he's frowning, but his voice is calm. "There's no reason to apologize."

Dick laughs, mostly because the tension is gone and also because Damian is talking again. "Well, sometimes I let my mouth get the better of me. I won't force you into talking about something," he raises up to place a hand on his little brother's shoulder, grinning. "You'll come to me when you're ready."

"Tt," Damian rolls his eyes. "You're impossible, Grayson."

"Thanks," he says. "Now how 'bout a make-up hug?"

"Don't be stupid."

"Come on," Dick insists, now gripping his shoulder and bringing him closer despite the resistance. "It's just a hug."

Damian tries to jerk away, but the favor is already in Dick's hands as he wraps him in a tight embrace. "Grayson, cease this instant-" his voices catches when he's squeezed hard between the man's arms and chest.

"Doesn't this feel good, Dami?" A grunt is his reply. "I _know_, I love hugging you too!" He isn't deterred a bit by the struggling as he continues to hold his brother close, enjoying the moment, until- "Ah!" He lets out a string of giggles, releasing Damian from his hug. "Oh my gosh, Dami, did you just-"

"It was the only way to free myself!" Damian insists, scrambling to the head of the bed.

"If it's a tickle fight you wanted, Dami, all you had to do was ask."

"Don't be an idiot, Grayson." He snaps, taking and placing one of Dick's pillows to cover his lap and midsection. "I would never indulge in something so childish. Besides, I'm not _ticklish_."

Dick taps his chin with his index finger, feigning thought. "You know, I'd really like to test that theory."

"Grayson-"

"I've always wondered, you know."

"_Don't you dare-_"

It takes a few minutes, and some _real _effort to pin Damian down- a few punches were even thrown and Dick worried a time or two that his stitches would bust (luckily, they didn't). After his pillows and half his sheets are on the floor, the other half tangled and twisted on his bed, he finally manages to get the upper hand.

"Grayson," he growls, red faced from exertion as he continues to struggle. "If you even think about i-" The rest of that sentence is a mixture of sounds, ranging from what seems to be groans of pain and grunts, to _genuine giggles_. Though, for Damian's sake, Dick will call them laughs, or chuckles even. Through these bouts of snickers, he manages a few sentences like, "I will kill you," and "You will regret this, Grayson," but Dick is having too much fun to worry about Damian smothering him in his sleep tonight.

…

**tbc. **

[Once again, _thank you_ _all_ for the incredibly kind reviews and for taking the time to favorite and follow. I appreciate it so much!]

[[By the by, did anyone catch the _Brave and Bold _reference~? (And forgive me for getting sappy- sleepovers can get _deep_, you know?)]]


End file.
